Crying Out
by Kitty O
Summary: "Her heart broke when his yells turned into words. Words like "please" and "no", but never words of surrender. Never capitulation. And, she noticed, never a name. He never yelled for anyone in particular." Oneshot. Canon pairings but could be interpreted as Skyeward. Contains torture, non-descriptive.


**A/N: I have concluded that it is unfair to be continually seeking out and whining about the lack of the kind of whump you want if you don't write some of it yourself.**

* * *

When May joined the team, Coulson promised her that they would be picking a lot of their own missions. This was seeming less and less true, but in this case, it was accurate. Coulson heard about the group from Skye, who described them as "like the Rising Tide, but a lot less about truth and a lot more about hating S.H.I.E.L.D." They blamed the organization for a lot of things, including several cases of widespread violence, the disappearance of superheroes that never existed, and in on one forum post, global warming. They offered money for information on S.H.I.E.L.D., especially secrets. Or the capture of an agent.

That last one made them seem less like a joke, and Coulson wanted them gone.

The real reason he picked this mission, though, was that it was highly unlikely to have anything to do with the Clairvoyant. They needed a break from him (though Skye steadfastly insisted it was a her), because last time the name came up, Simmons burst into tears.

Stress was running high.

Instead, they would tackle a young but ruthless organization that wanted them dead and really admired Skye's work.

"I hear you loud and clear," Skye said without looking up from her book and coffee. "All the same, AC, I'm gonna stop responding now, because I see them sitting down at the table in front of me."

"_You remember what you have to do? Let them talk for a while, and then you approach them and tell them that you are…"_

"Ward, shut up."

"_What shirt are you wearing?"_

"The one from the day we met. Why?"

"_It's low-cut."_

"Good or bad?"

"_Could be either."_

"_Skye, Ward, worry about it next time. Skye, your targets."_

Skye looked up and glanced around the room, making sure that she had eyes on Ward and Coulson. Ward had been staring at the treats behind the glass in the coffee shop for a few minutes. Coulson was outside, with his back to her, looking like a businessman. Her targets were now sitting two small tables away, talking.

Skye had expected computer nerds who thought they were badass, but she was beginning to think they might be badasses who thought they were computer nerds. Both of the men were at least the size of Ward, though one was much taller. They looked normal enough in everyday pants and shirts, but Skye had been on the team long enough to spot the weapons under their jackets.

_We should have sent May. _

"_The group knows what May looks like."_

"I know, sorry, didn't mean to speak out loud."

She gave them five minutes, and then stood up, bringing her book with her, but leaving the coffee. "Hi," she said, as both men looked up, surprised. "Mind if I sit down?"

The coffee shop was nearly empty. Probably why they had chosen this time to meet. She sat down.

"So," she said in her best coy voice. "I happened to overhear you two talking. You know, quiet shop, you can hear everything – like the fifth Harry Potter, am I right? Anyway, I hear you mention Spartans, and I think to myself, isn't that just like the tweets and forums? You know, the 'Spartanmother'? 'With your S.H.I.E.L.D. or on it? Super clever."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, we were talking about high school football," lied the taller one, who had reddish brown hair and a reasonably handsome face.

"Right." Skye winked. "Look, I'm Skye. I work for the Rising Tide." Two men leaned closer in instant interest. Skye leaned forward herself, mostly because her shirt was low cut. (She'd never tell Ward she picked it on purpose.) "Those videos of the Hooded Hero? Me. I read the Forums, guys. I live on the net. And I admire what you do."

"I'm familiar with the poster," said the other one, a blond. "You haven't been heard from in months."

She rolled her eyes. "Little trouble with the law. And Ian Quinn. Cleared up now. I want in, guys. I want to help." She put her hands out on the table, vaguely hearing Ward and Coulson chatter in her ear.

"_Ward, are all the people inside leaving?"_

"_That guy didn't pay. The barista just… Skye?"_

"We'd love to have you, but you'd have to come to a meeting."

"When?" Skye asked.

"We have to maintain secrecy," said the tall one. "You understand. Verify who you are." He gently reached out and put his hand over her arm.

She became instantly uncomfortably. "I get it, totally. Top secret is my middle name!"

The blond one spoke up. "Alright, I've got a question."

"_Skye?"_

"Shoot."

The restaurant was almost empty. At this time of day? Coulson stood up suddenly, and her earpiece came alive. _"Skye, it's a trap!"_

There were crackles as the rest of the team called to her from inside the Bus.

The tall one's grip solidified as the blond continued, "How dumb do we think you are? Skye was compromised by S.H.I.E.L.D. months ago. Glad you liked the forum posts, though." He grinned.

Skye blanched. "…Shoot."

* * *

They probably could have won, except the barista was in cahoots. It took Coulson a few seconds to get inside, and Ward had the barista literally on his back. Skye could handle herself okay – she threw a few punches. But there were two of them. Ward and Coulson eventually took one of them off her back, but the other was behind her.

It was all her fault.

When Ward turned to land a punch on the man she was supposed to have, still having the other's shirt clenched in his hand, he found Skye on her knees with a gun to her head. She was trying to not look terrified.

"Let him go," said the tall one. "Put your hands up, or I shoot her."

Ward let go, but he looked to Coulson before putting his hands up. "Sir?"

Coulson was staggering out from behind a table, blood dripping down his forehead. "Yeah," he agreed, and their hands went up.

Skye tried not to sob. This was all her fault. Ward or Coulson or May would know what to do right now. If she moved, they'd just shoot her.

"Now," said the tall one. "We're going to take you someplace nice and secure, but I recognize we probably have about half a minute before your team gets here. They can be assured that at the first sign of movement on their part, we shoot the three of you."

"Gah!" Skye cried as the device in her ear was roughly dug out. She flinched, pulling away, causing both of her teammates to look at her in alarm.

Her captor held up the earpiece. "Take them out, gentlemen. And any tracking devices. You are wearing some, in case your team needs to find you?"

"No," Ward said as he took his earpiece out. The blond took them all and crushed them underfoot. Coulson flinched. "We're not being tracked."

"Liar," said the tall one. "We'll search you for it ourselves, then." Skye was dragged to her feet and pushed against a wall. She gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. Ward forgot there were guns on him for a moment as he tried to press forward, but the blond stopped him. Coulson, on the other hand, didn't move. His hands were still up, and there was a gun in his back.

The tall one grabbed the bottom of Skye's shirt and yanked it up. She bit her lip. (_Don't touch me don't touch me don'ttouchme._)

"It's in her book," Ward said, and looked at Coulson. It wasn't for approval, but Coulson nodded anyway. Ward continued, "There's a tracking device in the front cover."

"Anywhere else?"

Ward and Skye locked eyes for a second. He sighed. Her eyes were huge. "Yeah," he said, defeated. "Give him the other one."

There were real tears in her eyes as she reached behind her back (her captor tensed) and removed the chip from the back of her bra. _All my fault._ Meanwhile, Coulson and Ward both reached for their own chips. Skye's shirt was returned to normal.

"Now," said the tall one, stepping back. He held up his gun. "Move."

* * *

The first blow was meant for Skye, but Ward took it.

It wasn't too destructive. Just her bright ideas causing a warning hit. They'd been switched from car to car and driven from one side of creation to another. And now they were finally heading into a building, hopefully a final (but not too final) destination. Skye could barely see, since it was getting dark. So she tripped, hoping a new vantage point would tell her where they were.

Her captor, who was someone new, went to hit her.

Ward took two large steps forward and turned so that his back took the impact. He was immediately shoved back into place.

"Don't do that again," he was warned.

"Don't hit girls who just lost their balance," Ward said.

"Both of you, shut up and move," said another captive.

* * *

When they were alone, Coulson suggested she try to tell them that S.H.I.E.L.D. had kidnapped her and forced her into this and that she still wanted in.

"I couldn't escape anyway," Skye said. "I didn't get a very good look, but I saw that there was no point in sneaking out. If we get out at all, it's gonna be guns blazing."

"But you could still get out of here," Coulson pointed out, pointing at their cell. She'd gotten the cot. She made a mental note that they were being really sweet. "It would be safer."

Skye looked at AC. She looked at Ward. She thought about the man who'd captured her. "I feel safer with you two," Skye said. "They wouldn't believe me anyway."

* * *

First, they took Skye into the cell next door, where her friends could see her and not reach her, and asked her some questions. It took a lot of her sarcasm to convince them that she wasn't even Level 1 and all she could give them was trade secrets of hackers. Her mouth also earned her a split lip.

Instead, the captor in charge asked her friends to talk in exchange for her health and wellbeing. Coulson said nothing. Ward told them to go to hell.

She wasn't harmed further. When they returned her to the cell, Coulson still looked cool and unruffled, but she knew very well that the growl she'd heard when they'd punched her hadn't come from Ward.

Ward right now just looked somber and reserved. And tense. Very tense.

"Well now," said the interrogator. (He was tall, hazel-eyed, and scarred.) "You've been cooperating so far, Jason informs me." He reached for Ward's arm.

* * *

"Skye," said Coulson calmly. "I think you should cover your ears."

She was huddled on the cot. "Why?"

Coulson was trying for a small smile. It looked wrong. "Because Ward is going to start screaming relatively soon, and I think it will upset you."

She could see Ward. He was strapped down to a table, and there were lights and needles and electricity and _oh by the Love of the God Sister believed in, this wasn't happening. _Ward had the same kind of face on as when they first met and he was trying to look at her face, not her chest. Not impressed, really, but brittle.

Ward wasn't tough. Ward just thought he was tough.

"No," she whispered as the captor asked a question.

Ward gritted his teeth. Coulson rolled his shoulders. Then Ward's back was arching off the table, and he was breathing heavily through his nose. He tried not to squirm, but he could only stay still for approximately a minute. He wanted out. He wanted out so badly, and he couldn't move. He could barely breathe and he couldn't move and there was this pain, eating inside of him.

It hurt.

_It hurt. _

Letting out one particularly explosive breath, he realized he couldn't hold it in too much longer. His head jerked to the side. First, he sought out Coulson with his gaze. Coulson nodded his permission. Then, Ward looked to Skye. She looked right back at him with those big brown eyes. She looked perfectly horrified.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he screamed, Skye didn't cover her ears.

* * *

When he screamed, the only thing that held her back was Coulson. She was off the cot, yelling for Ward to hold on, hold on… But she couldn't think of any other words. She couldn't get to him. There was no comfort coming. Everything was _not_ okay.

"Hold on, Ward."

It was all her fault, and that was all she could say?

* * *

They stuck to Ward almost exclusively after that for anything more extreme than a slap. Skye could hardly restrain herself when he cried out, and Coulson wasn't as good at looking non-affected as he'd like to be. There were sessions. In between them, Ward could come back to the cell.

His breaths were ragged the first time, and he looked so tired. He was shaking, and occasionally he made noises that indicated he didn't quite know what was going on. Skye attached himself to his side, holding his hand, stroking his hair.

"It's okay now, Ward. You can sleep if you want. Grant? Grant, it's okay. You're doing fine. You're so brave. Shh, shh, breathe. Breathe." (She didn't know what she was saying, but Ward seemed calmer when she talked, so she vowed to never stop.)

Coulson didn't want to let them take him again the first time they came back. Coulson had long since lost his tie and jacket. (The tie had been confiscated, and Skye was trying to keep Ward's shivering down with the coat.) So he knew he looked like a mess. All the same, he fought like a tiger. He flipped one of them and would've broken the other's arm, except they had Skye now. They had a gun to her head. Coulson stilled.

For her part, she barely noticed her own danger, because _this_ – this was awful. "No," she said when they reached for Ward's arm. He was barely conscious and didn't respond, but she did. "No," she repeated, louder, and kicked.

She'd thought that hearing Ward scream like that had been the most painful moment of her life so far. But when they dragged him out, dropping Coulson's coat, holding her back as she screamed, she knew she had been wrong. Because this was the most painful moment of her life so far.

She hollered and fought long before Ward started screaming and thrashing, but she didn't finish until he did.

Her heart broke when his yells turned into words. Words like "please" and "no", but never words of surrender. Never capitulation. And, she noticed, never a name. He never yelled for anyone in particular.

* * *

Sometimes someone would come in and throw a few punches, yelling questions and trying to scare them. Skye was scared, but she tried not to show it. Not that she had anything in particular to be scared of, she realized – Ward and Coulson took every blow aimed for her.

Coulson did it easily, just stepping in front of her for the majority of the time.

Ward was weaker, and had to be more theatrical. He had to throw himself this way and that to get anywhere. But he did it. "Don't touch her," he whined so quietly that she didn't think their attacker could hear.

Ward might try to hide it, but he was afraid. He was more afraid than she was. When a hit was really hard, he'd let out a sound that was too close to a whimper. He flinched. The yelling scared him. But still, if Coulson did not move fast enough to protect her, Ward would.

She begged them to stop trying to protect her, but they wouldn't. No one answered any questions, either.

* * *

The first night, Ward woke up screaming. Skye had attended to him at once, brushing his hair back and whispering kind words about how it was just her, just AC. He latched onto her wrist and didn't let go, even long after he had begun to calm down. They did both eventually get to sleep that night, but she had to sleep curled up near his chest, because he would not let go.

She didn't mind. That made her feel safe. (She hated herself for wanting to feel safe when he – when he…)

The second night, she tried to keep him awake by talking.

"They'll be here soon."

"Mmm."

"Probably tomorrow. May's going to kill them all. Won't that be hot?"

Ward smiled through cracked lips.

"Who are you most excited to see?"

"What?"

"When we get back on the Bus. You gonna go visit your brother? I used to want the Brodies when I was sick… Or hurt. Who do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never call out for anyone," Skye told him, trying to keep him interested. "But you've got to want someone. Someone who feels like they can help. Someone you like, you know? Who do you want when you're sick? Gramsy?"

"No one." Ward stared at her with furrowed brows. "My grandmother can't make me feel better."

"No, but doesn't it just feel like she can? Isn't there anyone like that? Like a mother-figure or a friend?"

Ward laughed, but they'd busted his rib and it hurt. "No one," he said. He closed his eyes.

She knew she should let him sleep, but that last nightmare really had worn him down. She wanted him awake. "Not even May?"

His eyes went open. "What?"

"May? I mean, she seems to be the embrace you seek usually…"

Ward glared at Coulson. "Sir, did –" he coughed. "Did you…?"

"Not me," Coulson said, from the corner of the room. He hadn't missed a word that had been said, though he was now thinking about the locks. Again.

"I'm smart, too," Skye said. "Now, come on, don't you want her when you're sick?"

"No," said Ward.

Skye felt him relax as she rubbed his arm softly. "I don't believe you."

* * *

Skye had been right. They saved them the next day, on their third day of captivity. Fitzsimmons used science, though they insisted it was more complicated than that – they'd used the D.W.A.R.V.E.S. to locate a chemical signature similar to that of the GH drug, which they shouldn't have been able to do, except…. Here it got fuzzy, but the point was that Skye had enough of the drug left in her bloodstream, yada, yada, etc…

They got the bad guys, and no one was dead, and they were safe and ready for recuperation.

She wanted to sleep. And for fourteen hours, while the doctors checked her out and the men had their bones set, she did.

* * *

Skye heard him yelling in his bunk. She didn't want to go on. (It was her fault, after all. He'd only not been mad at her so far because he hadn't thought about it enough. Besides, May was probably there.)

He started gasping again, those words like "please" and "no" and "don't hit me". Words that felt like knives. So Skye went in and sat by his bed.

She kissed his hand, and then his forehead. She petted his hair until he was fully awake.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Wasn't sleeping so well, and then Fitz talks in his sleep, and I heard him from next door, so I went for a late night stroll, and I heard you. Are you gonna be okay?"

"Fine," he rasped. His bed was drenched in sweat. "I'll probably see if there's medicine I can take tomorrow. Now, I just want to go back to bed."

"I'm sorry, Ward, it's all my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous. If that's what you think, we need a meeting with Coulson. For now, go to bed."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Hell no."

"You want me to get someone? AC? Your cell? May?"

He shook his head. "I don't need anyone." He never called out names. Not even his mother or grandmother. Skye didn't understand it.

"Okay, robot, you don't need anyone to make you feel better. You know where I am if you get bored." She cast him one last worried look before she left, but eventually she left.

Ward felt his heart racing and his breathing, still too rapid to relax with. He turned over in bed. He'd thought a few minutes ago that he would be able to sleep. But a few minutes ago, he had Skye's friendly hand in his hair and her warmth near him. Just like in the cell, when she'd grounded him. Kept him sane and calm.

Skye was gone, now, and so she didn't hear him whisper, "Please, Skye," into his pillow. But he did it just the same.


End file.
